


Ireland

by harryhermionerw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Current Child Abuse let's be real, Cute, Dumbledore is a dick, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryhermionerw/pseuds/harryhermionerw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A discussion about Harry and Seamus' homes leads to a discussion about Ireland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ireland

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on ffnet, and for a One Hour Challenge on a challenge board over there. Please ignore the wavering use of Seamus' accent.

"Are you ready to go home, Harry?" Seamus asked. It was the two of them, lounging on Seamus' bed. Seamus and Harry. Lately, Harry had found himself spending more time with Seamus (and more time with Dean by extent, but that was hardly worth mentioning.) Hermione and Ron either wanted to talk about the war or were too busy snogging to really pay attention to Harry like they used to.

He didn't begrudge them a minute of their happiness, not with the war, but he needed his own friends now, and had found that in Seamus Finnegan of all people. The daft, silly Irishman who had proved himself throughout their fifth year.

The war was waging around Hogwarts worse than ever, and the uncomplicated presence of Seamus made him feel safe. Comfortable. Human. Normal, or as normal as the bloody Boy Who Lived could be with the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.

"It's not home," Harry said flatly, rolling onto his side to look at Seamus. "It's never been home at the Dursley's place."

"They're your family, mate," Seamus said, not comprehending his tone. Harry had never once mentioned the Dursley's, or his summers there.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. Their nephew they took in out of the goodness of their hearts. They never let me forget it, either." He shoved a hand through his messy hair and blew out a frustrated breath. He didn't want to think about this now. He hated thinking about the Dursley's before he had too. Hated leaving Hogwarts. "Never mind. What about you? Hoards of Irish family waiting for you at home, I suppose?"

Seamus frowned down at the black-haired teenager, but didn't press. "Aye, all four of us, if you call that hoards." He smiled as Harry laughed. They were quiet for a few minutes, each thinking about their upcoming summer.

"Will you write me?" he asked suddenly into the silence.

Harry shrugged half-heartedly. "I'll try. My uncle doesn't like birds," he said, only telling half the truth. Hedwig would be trapped in her cage for most of the summer, only allowed out when Uncle Vernon was in a generous mood, or Harry had begged enough. He was thinking about leaving her with Ron this summer, if only to let her be able to come and go as she pleased.

It was silent again.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Does your family- I mean, are you…" he trailed off, uncertain how to continue.

He sighed. "They aren't very nice," he said quietly. Why was he talking about this? "They rather hate me, actually, but I'll survive. I always have."

Seamus stiffened, outraged. "Do they beat you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not much since my letter. I might do freaky thinks, y'know?" He laughed without humor. "It's not home," he repeated. "Hogwarts is my home."

Hogwarts had always been his home. It had saved him from the neglect and abuse of the Dursley's. He was mostly safe here. Voldemort was afraid of Dumbledore, and wouldn't outright attack the school. He had friends here, food, and people who actually cared about him and his well-being.

Lately, however, those weren't the only reasons Hogwarts was his home.

It also had Seamus.

It's only for three months, he told himself firmly. Three months. 

"They beat you before your letter, and you still go back? Harry!" Seamus looked awful concerned. And angry. He looked wonderfully angry. "That's not healthy! What happens if they do? Does anyone know?"

"No," Harry shook his head firmly. "I'm safest there, blood wards and all. And…" he hesitated, wondering how much to say. How much to trust. He hadn't told anyone about the abuse, not even Ron and Hermione, but Seamus was safe. Hermione would have cried, Ron would have flown off the handle ranting and shouting, but Seamus was simply there for him. A little angry, a little concerned - maybe a lot of both, but not an excess amount.

"And?"

He expelled all the air in his body, and curled into a ball. "And I don't know if Dumbledore would actually do anything," he admitted sofly, in a near silent voice. "I tried to say something, once, but he sent me back anyways. So I just have to bear it, until Voldemort is dead or I'm of age."

Silence. It stretched out uncomfortably.

Harry finally looked up at Seamus, who was red with anger. "That bastard!" he finally muttered. Dumbledore was the magic word. Not that Seamus was willing to simply accept Harry's words, he would try to convince his parents for a visit. He'd have to ask Harry if that would work. Maybe he'd send food.

Harry smiled wanly and nodded. He jumped when Seamus laid down next to him and cuddled close.

"I know this isn't… normal but us Irish are a very touchy-feely folk and I have a feeling you'd like a hug. I need a bloody hug meself," Seamus added, trying to grin at Harry.

Harry, the smallest boy in their dorm. They had so often teased him about it. He was at least six inches shorter than all of the boys, and absolutely tiny. It was, in a word, adorable. Not that Seamus would ever use the word aloud, and he quickly forced his thoughts elsewhere.

"After the war," he mused aloud, trying to change the subject. "What do you want to do?"

Harry, who had been tense, trying to figure out what Seamus was doing, relaxed and straightened out. He tentatively put his head on Seamus' shoulder, relaxing further when no comment was forthcoming.

"Go to Ireland," Harry said immediately. He looked almost surprised that the words had come out of his mouth.

"Ireland?" Seamus asked, bemused. "Why Ireland? Why not Italy, or America, or someplace exotic and exciting like that?"

Harry shrugged, not sure how to put it in words. How was he supposed to say that he wanted to go to Ireland because of Seamus? To see him? Because Ireland was so much of Seamus, it was his home? "I'm not one for exotic," he finally settled on. It was a safe answer.

"Neither am I," Seamus admitted. "I like Ireland meself." He smiled at Harry. "Come and visit me, aye? I'll show you around me home."

An answering smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips. "Aye."


End file.
